


No Space

by Blink_Blue



Series: Things You Said [4]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Shower Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6521149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things you said with no space between us.</p><p>Takes place during 2x12 after they receive Philip's video and the ransom note.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Space

“What are you–Connor!–”

Any protest or further exclamations are completely cut off when Connor gets his mouth on him. The man climbs into the shower–still fully dressed–and attacks him with his lips and his hands. He pushes him back against the wet wall of their shower, with a force that he’s not used to seeing from Connor. 

“What are you–Connor, baby what’s wrong–” His words are continuously muffled by Connor’s lips. The kisses between them are breathless, desperate, and aching. With his hands on either side of his face, Connor kisses him like he’s a lifeline, like he’s trying to draw the very air from his lungs. 

There’s no space between them. Connor’s clothes are quickly soaked from the shower head. They cling tightly to his body, and are pressed against his own naked flesh as Connor corners him against the wall.

“What are you doing?” Oliver softly asks the obvious question, when they finally part to take a breath. He gazes at the other man, their foreheads touching. Connor’s eyes look a bit dazed and there’s a different emotion on his face, one that he can’t quite pin down. He’s immediately concerned.   

“What’s going on?” He tries to peek out the space between the curtain and the wall. “Is Asher–?”

“No, Asher’s not fucking here,” Connor growls.

Oliver tries the blink the water out of his eyes. Connor’s breathing heavily, like he had just run up the two flights of stairs to their apartment.

“Is everything okay–?”

Connor cuts him off with another harsh, breathtaking kiss. The other man starts undoing the buttons of his shirt. Oliver quickly catches on and helps him remove the soaked garments that cling to him. Their lips never part as they remove his shirt and pants. The wet clothes are tossed outside of the shower, and suddenly their hands are all over each other. Exploring, stroking, _memorizing._

“Oh god… It’s been too damn long…” Oliver moans loudly as Connor’s lips attach to his neck, kissing and sucking at his sensitive skin. Connor’s hands find their way between Oliver’s legs and he strokes him firmly. He was embarrassingly hard the moment Connor climbed into the shower with him. “What’s gotten into you?”

Connor just shakes his head and kiss him again, harshly. Their teeth knock against each other, and Connor not so gently tugs on his lower lip. One of his hands comes to hold the back of Oliver’s head, pressing them closer as their lips mold together with an aching desperation.

The whimper that escapes his lips takes himself by surprise when Connor suddenly pulls away. His eyes fly open when he’s left kissing the air. 

But Connor drops to his knees on the floor of the tub, and the way he looks up at him… wide eyed, lips parted, a flush on his cheeks… He’s gorgeous, beautiful, and so  _pretty_ in a way most men can’t pull off.  

Fuck. 

Oliver bites down on his lower lip as he watches his lover. Connor’s tongue runs a long, hard stroke against the underside of his cock. He swirls it around the head, before slowly swallowing him whole. Oliver throws his head back against the wall of the shower, closing his eyes only momentarily, because he doesn’t want to miss a second of this. His cock hitting the back of the other man’s throat has him seeing flashes of white behind his closed eyelids. 

His cock throbs and pulses between Connor’s stretched lips. And Connor sucks him off like he can’t get enough of him. He hollows his cheeks, his tongue runs greedily along the length of his shaft, driving Oliver mad from the sensation. His hands grip fistfuls of Connor’s wet hair as he squirms and pants against the wall, his chest heaving. 

“Oh god… Connor…” he gasps. 

Connor swallows him even further, if possible. Oliver whimpers softly as he watches droplets of water stream down the curve of the other man’s neck. His own thighs tremble as Connor continues to bury his face between his legs, staring up at him with those dark, beautiful eyes, a perfect amalgamation of lust, desire, and sin. 

Oliver moans again while his fists continues to grip the other man’s hair, certainly hard enough to hurt. He gasps and whines as Connor continues to bring him closer to the edge. His whimpers are barely audible over the sound of the blasting shower head. Connor’s tongue continues to drive him insane, closer and closer to the edge. He always knows just how to make him feel so, _so_ good. No one knows his body better than Connor.

His head drops forward, and he feels his balls tighten as he continues to watch the way he fits perfectly between Connor’s lips. He moans and winces–“ _fuck I’m going to cum_ ”–his hands continue to grip the other man’s wet hair, forcing his head tightly in place against him. With the way his lips are hugging around every inch of him, it nearly leaves him choking every time. Oliver continues to fist his hair roughly. He shudders and moans as he climaxes down Connor’s throat. He groans loudly, and then his head falls back against the wet wall when it’s all over.

“Mm’sorry,” he murmurs softly. 

Connor shakes his head as he climbs to his feet. “I love you,” he says, his voice is hoarse and sounds overused. He kisses him passionately. Oliver is a bit out of it, still recovering from his intense orgasm, but he can taste himself on Connor’s tongue and it brings a smile to his lips.

“Connor…” he whispers. 

The other man presses tightly against his body, and once again he’s trapped between him and the wall behind him. He keens against him, whimpering softly as Connor continues to caress him between his legs. 

“Connor…”

“You’re so beautiful,” the other man murmurs against his lips. “And you don’t even know it.”

Oliver opens his eyes, blinking the water out of them. He stares at the other man, confused. But he doesn’t get out more than a word–“What?”–before Connor’s cutting him off with another kiss. But the kisses are now becoming frantic and more desperate. And Connor thread his fingers through his wet hair. Pathetic sounds escape from his lips as he kisses him in return. 

“You mean the fucking world to me,” Connor says in a low voice. “You know that? You’re the most beautiful goddamn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Oliver’s lips fall open in shock. But he doesn’t get a chance to say anything because Connor’s tongue pushes past his open lips. Oliver’s hands rest gently on the other man’s hips, but Connor… his hands are trying to touch him everywhere. He runs them down his neck, across his shoulders, then down his arms. He caresses his abdomen, down his hips, and finally he grabs his ass. He roughly pulls him just inches away from the wall just to slam back again in a ferocious kiss. 

“What’s going on with you?” Oliver gasps. He hasn’t seen this dominant side of his lover in a while. But his head spins and he craves it. His cock is already hard again between his legs. 

Connor’s eyes look a bit unfocused. “I love you so much,” is all he says. His voice sounds agonized as he breathes out, “I love you. I want you. I need you. I need you. I _need_ you.”

He moans as Connor slams their mouths together again. The kiss is short lived when Connor breaks it to turn him around. He feels Connor’s warm body press against his own. His hands brace against the wet wall of the shower as Connor prepares him. A moment later, he’s pressing inside. He gasps, a desperate sound torn from the base of his throat, and his head falls back against Connor’s shoulder. Water and saliva make a poor lubricant, but Connor is gentle, and he gives him enough time to adjust to the feeling of being stretched and full. 

He turns his head, reaching for the other man. He parts his lips and allows Connor to slip his tongue inside.

“I love you so much,” Connor murmurs softly against him. “I fucking love you so much, Ollie.”

“I love you, too,” Oliver whispers. 

Connor gasps against him, his chest heaving heavily. They breathe roughly as Connor starts with slow, gentle thrusts. His arms are wrapped tightly around Oliver’s waist. “I don’t want to leave you,” he whispers. 

Oliver’s eyes flutter open. He thinks he must have heard wrong, but the next thrust hits a sweet spot inside him that leaves him gasping instead of forming words. Connor kisses him hard, hard enough that their lips will bruise. Oliver’s hands try to find purchase against the slippery wall and he finally gives up and grips Connor’s arm around his waist instead. He fumbles to kiss him back, arching his back and twisting so that their lips never part.

They breathe roughly into each other’s mouths. It’s somehow gentle, rough, desperate and needy all at the same time. Connor’s hands achingly hold on to him, and his body thrusting inside him has him choking on air and gasping his name.

“Oh god, Connor…” his eyes flutter open again, and he has to blink a few times to get the water out of them. His gaze runs over the other man’s face. They’re both soaked from the running water, but Connor’s eyes are suspiciously red. “Are you crying?” Oliver suddenly asks, his voice filled with shock. 

Connor’s eyes widen and he looks a bit like a deer in the headlights. He quickly shakes his head, but Oliver doesn’t quite believe him. 

But a firm thrust cuts off anything else he might have said. They grunt and gasp and moan in unison. Connor’s hand reaches lower to grasp Oliver’s hard, aching cock, and he strokes him to a slow, steady rhythm.

Oliver whimpers softly. He’s far too sensitive, and far too close to the edge, once again.

Connor groans behind him. His free hand tightly grips Oliver’s shoulder and his face presses against the back of his neck. He climaxes first, muffling his moans by biting gently the flesh where Oliver’s shoulder meets his neck. Moments later Oliver follows, his second orgasm leaves him whimpering and sobbing, weak in the knees and near collapse. 

They shake and tremble together, breathing heavily and coming down from their highs. Oliver lifts his head first. The other man is still pressed tightly against him. There’s no space between their bodies, none at all. He turns his head to look behind him. 

“Connor…” he starts softly. 

But the other man shakes his head where it’s pressed against him. “Don’t…” he whispers, so softly Oliver almost misses it over the sound of the still blasting shower head.

Oliver blinks in confusion, and his brow furrows in concern. He swallows and tries again. “Connor, did something happen?”

The other man doesn’t respond, he just simply continues to bury his face in Oliver’s neck. 

Shakily, Oliver’s hand reaches for Connor’s at his side, and he brings it up to wrap around his abdomen. He gives it a firm squeeze. 

Connor slowly lifts his head. And when he meets Oliver’s gaze, there’s no mistaking the tears in his eyes. He blinks quickly, and finally chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

“What’s happened?” Oliver whispers.

Connor leans forward and kisses his lips. It’s soft, gentle, and sweet. He takes a shaky breath when they part.

“Tell me,” Oliver says softly. Worry and panic have started to settle deep in his gut, replacing all the wonderful, euphoric butterflies that were in its place before. “What’s happened?”

Connor wordlessly reaches over and finally turns off the shower head. 

The water had long run cold.

**Author's Note:**

> [x](http://winters-blue-children.tumblr.com)


End file.
